The 1st Annual Hunger Games
by hungergamestributexx
Summary: This is the story of Alissa Holt, who volunteered in place of her twin sister. This is the story of Jamie York, who is blind. This is the story of Owen Hanks, who wants to escape his abusive parents. This is the story of the twenty-three kids who die.
1. The Tributes

**The Tributes**

**DISTRICT 1  
>LUXURY<strong>

Clay Holmes

Alissa Holt

**DISTRICT 2  
>MASONRY<strong>

Emmett Weiss

Joanne Osbourne**  
><strong>

**DISTRICT 3  
>TECHNOLOGY<strong>

Tristan Evans

Lucinda Chandler

**DISTRICT 4  
>FISHING<strong>

Devin Albott

Nicole Hurley

**DISTRICT 5  
>POWER<strong>

Jamie York

Savannah Gray

**DISTRICT 6  
>TRANSPORTATION<strong>

Gale Ray

Jayne Freedman

**DISTRICT 7  
>LUMBER<strong>

Cole Lowery

Juliet Griffin

**DISTRICT 8  
>TEXTILES<strong>

Benny Monroe

Marianne Meyer

**DISTRICT 9  
>GRAIN<strong>

Kurt Cobbs

Fay Bolton

**DISTRICT 10  
>LIVESTOCK<strong>

Owen Hanks

Elizabeth Page

**DISTRICT 11  
>AGRICULTURE<strong>

Gary Hancock

Camille Hobbs

**DISTRICT 12  
>MINING<strong>

Austin Woods

LaVerne Hall


	2. District 1 Reaping

**DISTRICT 1 REAPING**

Alissa Holt held onto her twin's hand. "If you get picked," she whispered, "I'm volunteering."

Emily Holt shook her head. "No, I won't get picked," she whispered back, "but if you do, I'm volunteering."

They held on fast.

Their escort, Delia May, was unnaturally cheery for such a down day. She made them all watch a movie that was about thirty minutes long. It detailed each aspect of the rebellion. The girls' father, Commander Holt, was the leader of the Rebellion. As their father's punishment, he was forced to watch his children die. One of them was to be picked.

Commander Holt was being held in the Capitol. He was forced to watch the entire games and not participate. It would be torture.

After the movie was over, Delia giggled happily, clapping her hands. "Ladies first!" she cried, reaching her hand into a glass bowl. She fished around, then held out a envelope.

With graceful steps, the pale, pink-haired escort glided over to the microphone, where she opened the envelope. "Emily Holt!"

Silence.

Alissa looked to her sister, who had frozen in fear. But as seconds passed, she turned to Alissa and smiled apologetically.

Emily pushed her sister out of their round-up, where Peacekeepers took her shoulders and escorted her up the stairs. "Hello, Emily. I love your name. Very berry pretty!"

Alissa nodded and Delia turned towards the crowd. "Any volunteers?"

Silence.

* * *

><p>Clay Holmes looked up at Emily. And then he noticed the differences. This girl wasn't Emily. It was Alissa. He wanted to cry out, state the obvious the others were thinking. But Delia didn't notice the sudden tension in the crowd.<p>

Clay craned his neck and looked over to the fourteen-year-old section, where Emily should've been standing and Alisa had stood only moments before.

Emily looked at him. That coward.

"THAT'S NOT EMILY!" someone screamed.

Delia looked up. "It's not?"

"No, Miss May," Clay spoke up. "That's her twin sister, Alissa."

"Alissa Holt?"

Alissa hung her head. "Yes, that's me."

"Well, brilliant. Alissa Holt, everyone!"

Emily looked relieved.

_COWARD! BITCH! CUNT!_ Clay shouted each and every word in his mind.

"And now for the boys!" Delia walked over to the glass, fishbowl-like container next to the girl's bowl. She slipped her hand in and dug around. She pulled out an envelope. "And this year's male tribute is..."

Clay closed his eyes.

"...Clay Holmes!"

Clay felt like he was falling. And falling. And falling.

Two Peacekeepers seized him the moment he stepped out of the sixteen-year-old section. They half-dragged/half-carried him up onto the stage.

Alissa broke down crying. But Clay had to stay strong.

For Alissa.

Never for Emily.


	3. District 2 Reaping

**DISTRICT 2 REAPING**

Jo Osbourne pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She hated her long hair. She hated the Capitol. And most of all, she hated _this_! Fear and hatred coursed through her veins.

District 2's escort, a plump man named Christian Wolf, stood up on the stage. He played a movie that was about thirty minutes long, but it felt much longer than that.

Jo Osbourne was terrified, yet she would never had admitted it to a living soul. She was THE Jo Osbourne. Her father was Joseph Osbourne, the lead medic for the Capitol in the rebellion.

She, of course, didn't have her father's healing skills. Those went to Jo's older sister, Bailey, who had just turned nineteen. She was too old for the Hunger Games. Jo, on the other hand, was eighteen. This was her first and final year.

"Ladies first!" called Christian. He walked over to a large fish bowl in the center of the stage. There were two - one for boys and one for girls.

Christian dug around in the bowl for a moment, then pulled out an envelope. After opening it, he held the portable microphone to his lips and read: "Joanne Osbourne!"

Jo heard the cry ripped from the throats of her family. Her first year. She might die in the next month or so.

Jo stepped out of the eighteen-year-old section. Her father stepped out of the section of those not eligible. "Jo! Jo! JO!"

Jo didn't turn.

As soon as she got up onto the stage, she turned to face the crowd. Her father stood in the aisle, stricken with grief. Bailey was struggling to console him.

"Any volunteers?"

Joseph's head raised. "Please! Someone! PLEASE!"

Silence.

* * *

><p>Emmett Weiss was going to volunteer. He had taken out as many tesserae as was allowed. And he was eighteen. That was nine slips. He had the most this year. He wanted to be chosen. He looked forward to death. Ever since his lover, Rosa, had died, he'd been in a dump. This was his chance. His chance to join her.<p>

He didn't see when their escort pulled out the slip. He didn't see when he opened it. He just heard the name.

"Felix Flores!"

Felix, Emmett's best friend, froze next to him. "No, I can't..."

Emmett looked at him, envy filling his ice-blue eyes. He turned towards the stage.

"I volunteer!"

Everyone looked towards Emmett. Felix looked towards him. "Are you _crazy_?"

"Shut up."

He jogged up on stage, next to Joanne Osbourne. He liked her. She was nice. And her father was amazing. He kept Rosa living when her body lost the battle against cancer.

"I present, the tributes of District Two!"


	4. District 3 Reaping

**DISTRICT 3 REAPING**

Lucinda Chandler pressed her thick-rimmed glasses farther up her nose. She sniffled; it seemed that she had constant allergies nowadays. Her mother smiled at her through the crowd.

Lucinda was one of the unlucky ones: she was twelve years old. She had taken tesserae this year, as did her five siblings: Antonio, Jonah, Kelli, Jamal, and Esther. They all had the same dark hair, green eyes, and thick-rimmed glasses Lucinda had. Antonio was thirteen. Jonah was seventeen. Kelli was eighteen. Jamal was fourteen. Esther was sixteen.

The odds were not in Lucinda's family's favor. They had at least one child in almost every category. They would've had the twins who were both fifteen. But they were both dispatched in the war and executed when the war ended.

District 3's escort, Eloise Cochran, made them watch a thirty-minute video about the rebellion. About the consequences.

Afterwards, Eloise let out a chirp that faintly resembled words. Then she stuffed her fat hand into the girl's ball and picked up an envelope. She chirped again.

Everyone looked at Lucinda. Was she picked? Or, even worse, was any of her family picked?

Eloise chirped again, and this time Lucinda picked out the words: "Luceenda Chhandlerrr!"

Lucinda froze. Kelli had cried out. As had Antonio and Jonah. Jamal and Esther clung to each other.

Lucinda stepped out into the aisle. Kelli ran and pulled her into a hug, sobbing into her shoulder. "Let me volunteer! Let me volunteer! _Please_, Lucy!"

Lucinda shook her head. "I want this, Kelli. I want to win. I want to bring home food and supplies for Jonah's crazy inventions."

Lucinda pulled away and stepped onto the stage. "Don't ask for volunteers," Lucinda said. Eloise nodded, chirping again.

* * *

><p>Tristan Evans rolled his eyes. If he was chosen, he would kill that preppy little brat first. He hoped to be chosen.<p>

Tristan had divorced parents. Born and raised in District 4, he was strong, handsome, and totally out of place with his nerdy father here in District 3. He'd bring honor to District 4 if he won.

Tristan smiled as the woman - Ellie or something - reached into the bowl of boy's names. She whipped one out and opened it, chirping as she read the name.

"Trrrristan Evannnnns!"

Tristan smiled. He was only fifteen. But he was to win.

Tristan jogged up to the stage. He shook hands with Ellie or whatever and then with Lucinda. But with Lucinda, he gave her a smirk and squeezed. Fear highlighted in her big, green eyes.


	5. District 4 Reaping

**DISTRICT 4 REAPING**

Nicole Hurley hated having her long, curly hair down. She was used to having it high up - in a ponytail or a bun. The sun in District 4 is flaming hot, and Nicole's dark veil of hair wasn't helping much.

She was sweating, too, and the body odor of the sweaty bodies around her was nauseating. Her district's mentor made them watch a thirty-minute movie before going on and on and on and on about how the Capitol was wonderful. His name was Antonio Bridges, she remembered.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour or so, Antonio said with his thick Spanish accent: "Ladies first!"

He stuffed his chubby hand into the fishbowl closest to the microphone. He pulled out an envelope and opened it.

Nicole sniffled. She was getting sick. God, she hated being sick! It was just terrible!

He said a name.

Maybe after the reaping, she would take some medicine and go right to sleep in her warm and cozy bed. Nicole looked up, then turned to her neighbor. "Wait, who did he say?"

The girl, an upbeat brat whose parents owned the net shop, looked at her. "He said you, Nicole. Your last name's Hurley, right?"

Nicole froze.

Antonio spoke again. "Nicole Hurley?"

It was true. She was going into the Hunger Games. She was going to _die_ in the Hunger Games.

* * *

><p>Devin Albott watched with all the others as Nicole Hurley took the steps up to the stage. Unlike most of the adults in District 4, Nicole's parents played no part in the rebellion. She and her family both came from District 8 and only moved here to escape the war. And they were stuck here, as traveling between Districts was now prohibited.<p>

Antonio took Nicole's arm and lifted it up. "Your female tribute of District Four!"

Silence.

Antonio chuckled and walked over to the boy's bowl."And now for the gentlemen!"

He stuffed his hand down into the bowl and fished around, his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth. He pulled one out and read it. "Devin Albott!"

Devin froze. No. He couldn't be part of this. He was _the_ Devin Albott: District 4's sex God. Literally! He couldn't die in the Hunger Games, which he most likely would.

Someone pushed him out into the open aisle and two peacekeepers took his arms, carrying him up onto the stage. He stood next to Nicole, who was staring down at her feet. Antonio took his arm and lifted it up. "Your male tribute of District Four!"

Silence.

"May we have a round of applause to the brave souls up here?"

Silence.

Someone must have been thinking what Devin was.


	6. District 5 Reaping

**DISTRICT 5 REAPING**

It's a joke to the people of the other districts about how power hungry District 5 is, its specialty being power. Of course, it's not meant in a literal sense. District 5 supplies electricity. Everyone knows that.

Emilia Gray and her family had escaped from District 13 soon after the war started. They wanted no part in this catastrophe, which they were sure it would turn into. They were right - District 13 was no more.

Today, Emilia had her hair up pretty. She wore a pretty red dress and looked pretty. Back in District 13, this was all anyone asked for - the boys to look sophisticated, the girls to shut up and look pretty. Part of the reason why Emilia's family had decided to move to District 5.

Their escort, Donna Gates, made them watch a thirty-minute movie. Once it was over, she reached her skinny, anorexic hand into the bowl and fished out an envelope. She opened it.

"Savannah Gray!"

Emilia's sister stood from her chair, which some kind soul had donated to the District. There was one for each twelve-year-old. If they were going to die, at least be comfortable. Right?

Savannah walked up toward the stage. She turned to the crowd and began to sob.

Donna patted Savannah's back and tried to soothe her for a few minutes, but all was not well. Soon, Donna gave up and returned to the boy's bowl.

* * *

><p>Jamie's life ended the moment Donna called the boy's name. "Jamie..." her smile even disappeared. "...York?"<p>

Jamie's mother cried out; she was somewhere to his left. "Jamie! NO!"

One of the regular peacekeepers found Jamie in the fourteen-year-old section and helped him onto the stage. "What's wrong with him?" Savannah asked. Obviously, she didn't realize that he could hear just fine.

The peacekeeper (one of Jamie's favorites, a boy named Perry) whispered, "He's blind."

Jamie tried to imagine Savannah's face, but he couldn't see it. He didn't even know what she looked like.

He felt someone grab for his hand, and he suspected it was Savannah. Then, another someone (Donna, maybe?) raised his left arm and Savannah raised his right. "I present to you, the tributes of District Five," Donna said solemnly. Unlike the other district mentors, Donna actually lived in District 5, although she was Capitol-born. She knew these two kids. She knew about Jamie York, District 5's charity case. She knew about the last remaining survivors of District 13: the Grays.

Savannah leaned in. "They're silent, but I guess you can hear that. They're all holding their left hands up, palm forward. The gesture for apology here, I think."

Jamie removed his hand from Donna's grasp and raised it. Someone began to cry. Jamie wanted to go to that person. _Don't cry,_ he wanted to say. _I don't think you're supposed to cry at a blind person's funeral. I know I wouldn't want anyone crying._


	7. District 6

**DISTRICT 6 REAPING**

Jayne Freedman was not made for work. She had a skinny face, pale blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Her hair was curled and she wore bows and pretty dresses. She was gorgeous.

She was _not_ made for the Hunger Games.

District 6's escort, Dorothy Lee, makes them watch a thirty-minute video before going towards the two bowls. "Standard protocol states that ladies first, but I won't tell if you won't, eh?" Dorothy laughs, but everyone else is silent.

"I hope she dies," Jayne's best friend, Helen, said.

"Don't be so rude, Helen," Jayne whispered, turning her attention back to the stage.

Dorothy dug her skinny, anorexic hand into the bowl, her purple hair falling around her face in ringlets. She pulls out an envelope and opens it. "Gale Ray!"

Jayne cries out. Gale was eighteen, a year older than Jayne herself. And she loved him. He couldn't die. He couldn't _leave_ her!

Gale walked up onto the stage, fear highlighted in his eyes. He had no hope of winning. Death was near.

* * *

><p>As soon as he was on the stage, projected for all of District 6 to see, he felt like he was dead. This was his funeral - to him, at least. Dorothy giggled and clapped her hands together. "You're a cutie, eh?" she said, winking. Gale nodded.<p>

"Mmk."

Dorothy dug her anorexic hand into the girl's bowl, pulling an envelope out. Completely random. But what happened next, Gale was sure was fate. "And the female tribute is...Jayne Freedman!"

A couple girls tried to volunteer for District 6's charity case. She was so small, so beautiful. She couldn't be part of the Hunger Games. She was Jayne Freedman, for crying out loud!

And she was so _nice_. She told the girls no when they tried to volunteer. She said she'd rather die herself than watch them.

Once she reached the stage, she asked to see the slip. Dorothy looked scared for a moment, then handed her the envelope with the name of the female tribute. She glanced down and read the name. Her eyebrows raised, but she handed it back to her. "Thank you."

She took her place next to Gale and he grabbed hold of her hand. She looked shocked at first, but then her fingers interlaced with his.

* * *

><p>District 6 was at an unrest. Jayne Freedman was the daughter of Commander Freedman, one of the head rebels. He was currently awaiting execution. It was no accident that Jayne was chosen.<p>

When Jayne had asked for the slip, she knew it wouldn't say her name. But she wasn't going to call Dorothy out either. She practically volunteered for her best friend.

The slip said Helen Lawson.


End file.
